


Tears of Myrrha

by wordsmithraven



Series: A Drink from the Mnemosyne [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Graphic Smut, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmithraven/pseuds/wordsmithraven
Summary: Magnus often comes to Meliorn for plant based potions ingredients. Meliorn was a skilled horticulturist and his plants were of the highest quality, but this time Meliorn asks for more than Magnus had ever expected. Magnus, who was only recently confirmed as a High Warlock, must now negotiate a deal for his people that will have lasting effects for the entire Shadow World.





	Tears of Myrrha

**Author's Note:**

> Got a plot bunny in my head after a post on tumblr that headcanoned that Magnus and Meliorn hooked up before. It's one of my own HCs, so I wrote a one-shot. 
> 
> It's not a PWP, it has more substance than that, and it's not that explicit at all. It's mostly just exploring Magnus and Meliorn's relationship, especially as a warlock to a faerie. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When he emerged from his portal, Magnus heard the trill of a nightingale. He dropped his glamour from his eyes and let them adjust to the night. It took barely a moment, then his demon blessed pupils expanded and the dark exploded with a hundred permutations of light.

Overhead, the night sky spread its star dotted cloak above forest and mountainside. The dry air was thick with the aroma of rich, green flora enhanced by a summer breeze. Beneath his brown hiking boots crunched small stones interspersed with wildly growing weeds. Magnus looked out over the edge of the cliff before him and saw the twisting of a river ahead, moonlight reflecting from a rippling surface.

It had been a few years since he had been to Lebanon—the last time had been for a similar sojourn—and the gorgeous vista that Magnus was faced with upon arriving made him mentally promise to come there more often.

He was hunting down ingredients to fill his potions stocks: cedar cones and white champion cuttings, if he could find some good quality. Magnus likely could have gotten what he needed from a mundane nursery but he had found that Seelie-cultivated plants were superior in every way. Few were more skilled at horticulture than Meliorn, even though that was not his primary duty as a Knight of Faerie.

Magnus set to walking but paused soon after in consideration. He then pulled an ornate gold ring from the pocket of his light cotton pants and enclosed the jewelry in his fist. He would track Meliorn just in case.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, letting his magic flow around his hand. Flashes of scattered images ran through his mind, disorienting at first and then settling into a crisp picture. Magnus saw running water flowing over an outcropping of rock and down into a small waterfall. He frowned lightly. Just as he was about to concentrate more and force the track, the waterfall parted and a hand shot forward through the water. Magnus saw Meliorn slowly emerge from behind the curtain of water and wipe his face with his hands. His little green, leaf pattern on his cheek bone looked black in the darkness.

Magnus smiled and opened his eyes. Meliorn wasn’t quite where Magnus had expected. He had thought he would find the man in his Ring, not taking a bath. No matter, though, he adjusted his path and continued. He kept the ring in his hand and followed the pull of the track through the trees and away from the cliff where he stood.

Eventually, Magnus came across a natural path cutting through the forest. He let his cat’s eyes follow barely visible tracks in the grass as they led him out to a riverbed. A few yards away from where he stood, Magnus saw Meliorn still bathing in a pool that was partially separated from the river’s flow by smooth, large rocks. Behind him rose a medium tall cliff over which the river flowed in four different waterfall sections. Magnus put the gold ring back in his pocket and let his boots trod loudly on a fallen twig as he approached.

Meliorn turned at the sound, eyes luminous in the moonlight. Around the pool of water to the side of a larger waterfall was a concentrated cloud of fireflies, further lighting the area. In any other instance, such a thick congregation of the insects in such a specific formation would be strange, but Magnus could feel the heavy permeation of faerie magic and gave the slight oddity not a thought.

When Meliorn saw Magnus standing by the river, he smiled slyly and cocked his head to the side. He let his long, dark hair fall into the water and brushed his hands through the heavy strands. He gave them one final pass through then flipped the wet lengths over his shoulder.

“Magnus,” he said, voice a low and teasing. “You made it.”

Meliorn swam to the side of the pool of water and heaved himself up onto a rocky ledge with straining arms. Water dripped down his nude body, rolling over sculpted muscles and catching on battle scars and the light dusting of hair on his chest. He bent his compact form to pick up a towel from where it sat next to folded clothes and a pair of boots. He stretched and slowly dried off before carefully pulling on his clothes.

He was putting on a show. Magnus could recognize the ploy and while he most certainly appreciated every second, Magnus wondered at the need. Meliorn knew why Magnus was there, he had fire messaged Meliorn the day before to inquire after his availability. It was a simple bit of commerce between them. Something they had done quite a few times before.

In fact, now that he thought of it, it was strange that Meliorn chose to bath at this time, knowing Magnus was set to arrive. Why?

 _It’s almost like he’s trying to seduce me_ , Magnus thought. _How curious._

Magnus and Meliorn had been lovers several times over their acquaintance for several different reasons, and he was certainly not adverse to such in that moment. Still, it was not like Meliorn to be so unsubtle in his approach to asking for a dalliance.

Magnus moved to the side as the other man stepped down from the rocky platform to the slightly sandy riverside.

“I hope your bath was refreshing, Meliorn,” Magnus said, keeping his voice deliberately light. “This is a beautiful place.”

“It’s even more splendid during the day.”

 _Then why not bath then?_ Magnus did not voice his question though, hoping to ease his way to the truth rather than bulldoze his way there.

“Come. It’s a twenty minute or so walk to my Ring from here.”

Meliorn paused by the river and bent to lightly place his hand in the water. Magnus felt faerie magic rise even stronger than what covered the area in general. Green light flowed down Meliorn’s arm and seeped into the water. The water rippled and the area went deathly silent, insects and other fauna gone completely quiet.

From the water rose a dozen or so tiny, flickering green flames. They skipped over the water’s flow and merged into a larger whole next to Meliorn’s hand. As he straightened and pulled his hand from the water, the will-o’-the-wisp rose up with him. He lifted his hand into the air above him and let his magic fade. The fae flame stayed aloft and followed Meliorn’s movements, lighting the way as he turned to walk past Magnus to the natural path Magnus had just left. Magnus’ vision adjusted to accommodate the new source of light and he followed the other man into the trees.

It did indeed take them less than half an hour to get to where Meliorn was staying at the moment. They came up to Meliorn’s Ring, spilling out from the heavier forest into a wide clearing, and Meliorn disappeared. Magnus followed him and stepped over a line of mushrooms that edged the clearing. As he crossed the fungi, he felt a shiver as Meliorn’s wards registered his presence and allowed him passage. Once pass the barrier, the clearing brightened and suddenly what was previously an empty forest clearing revealed itself as more.

Across the open area was now a massive and towering _cedrus libani_ tree with limbs stretching wide to cover half the clearing from the moon above. Its lower branches were pruned while gauzy, lavender curtains hung down to create a cozy, natural domicile.

Meliorn dismissed his will-o’-the-wisp as his Ring was already heavily illuminated by hung lanterns spaced evenly around the swaying curtains. Meliorn pulled a curtain aside and waited for Magnus to enter.

The area inside the curtains was decorated with low furniture made of polished wood. The ground was covered in thick carpets. The center of the space was taken up by the wide trunk of the Lebanon cedar tree and Meliorn’s current receiving room was arranged around it. There was a nest of pillows, a pair of armchairs, a table, some low book shelves and cabinets, and several lamps overhead. It was cooler inside the enclosure than out, and Magnus could marginally sense the environmental spells that modulated the temperature. Lovely spell work.

Meliorn dropped the curtain and gestured to the pillows and then to the armchairs. “Lounge or sit, if you like. Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m fine,” Magnus replied and drew off his light, gray jacket to toss it over the pillows. He decided not to try the pillows and elegantly dropped into one of the armchairs.

Meliorn shrugged and moved to a low cabinet, hanging his wet towel on a hook in its side. He opened the doors, pulled out a pink stoppered bottle, and poured a glass of equally pink wine. He kept the bottle, scooped up a second glass, and moved to the other armchair.

Faerie wine was heady stuff, usually an aphrodisiac as well. Normally Magnus would gladly indulge but something about Meliorn’s demeanor made him hesitate. He had a feeling he would need a clear head for whatever was happening. Besides, there was a reason the legends said one should have a care taking food or drink while in a fae realm. Even though he fairly trusted Meliorn and Magnus’ power meant that he had no real fear that imbibing would truly harm or detain him, he decided it best to err on the side of caution.

“So, how have you been, Magnus? It’s been some time since I saw you.” Meliorn sipped at his wine and rubbed a hand over the table between them.

Magnus watched carefully. “Oh, you know, busy as a bee. Pandemonium only just opened, so everything’s been very hectic.”

“That’s right, I’d heard you were opening a club. Down World Neutral, yes?”

Magnus nodded.

Some downworlder establishments were exclusive to individual groups but Magnus had specifically chosen to keep his open to all peoples: warlocks, vampires, werewolves, fairies, mundanes, and even shadowhunters. It was in his nature to be open to many types of people, regardless of background. Provided they didn’t cause trouble, of course. Circle members were most certainly not invited.

“You’re still in New York, yes?”

Magnus was almost certain Meliorn knew exactly where Magnus lived and worked but he nodded anyway, playing the game.

“I heard you’re living in Los Angeles these days.”

Meliorn hummed. He had told Magnus by fire message to come to his Lebanese home as that had the larger nursery than his Los Angeles location.

Magnus widened his eyes in an attempt not to roll them and decided to speed things along. “So, about the purchase, are you able to spare the amount of cones I need? I need quite a lot but I don’t want to harm your nursery.”

Meliorn waved a hand. “It’s no problem. I have a larger yield than usual this year for cedars. Dorani encouraged the trees to grow larger than I had expected while I was away.”

Dorani was Meliorn’s nymph helper who watched his Lebanese farm while the Knight was at Court or out of the country. She was a young faerie Magnus had met only once. A distant cousin of some sort, if he remembered correctly.

“Where is Dorani? I would’ve expected her to come looking by now after we crossed your wards.” Magnus glanced a little around the trunk of Meliorn’s cedar to a curtained hallway leading out from the receiving area.

Meliorn’s Ring was actually a spreading network of curtained rooms, sprawling out in a large forest estate that held several dozen nurseries of many types of flora. Meliorn was descended from a family of dryads, so he specialized mostly in trees with a bit of dabbling in other plants. His Ring reflected that heritage.

Faerie Rings were dimensional pockets similar to the mounds of legend, though smaller. The Fae trucked heavily in dimensional magic and had erected homes steeped in such for millennia upon millennia. They could fold spaces as small as a couch or as large as an island to conceal them from enemies or nosy mundanes.

Meliorn was a Knight of Faerie—even more, he was favored by the Seelie Queen. His close proximity to the throne gave him access and power of which few could boast. As a result, he had the ability to hold a fully established Faerie Ring, anchored to the cedar tree under which they currently sat.

Meliorn reached over, laid a hand on the tree’s trunk, and closed his eyes. The tree’s branches shivered.

“She’s among my maples,” he said and leaned back, drinking more wine. “I’ll call her when we need her…” He paused pointedly.

Magnus played with the rings on his hand and left the prompt hanging there. If Meliorn wanted something, he could just say it. Magnus had dealt with faeries for far too long to be led into a conversational trap so easily.

Meliorn flicked aside a damp tendril of hair, tucking the errant strand behind a pointed ear, and drank again. He turned fully to Magnus and met his eyes. Magnus straightened. Finally, the truth.

“The Queen is moving me to New York.”

Meliorn had a strange expression on his face. He looked a touch conflicted and then, with a squaring of his shoulders, he was resolute.

Magnus let out a slow breath. That was…interesting.

“Any particular reason?” he asked carefully.

Meliorn picked his words with equal care. “She has…received counsel that the area will soon become important to her interests.”

Magnus kept his face neutral. “And these interests involve me somehow?”

“Not just you.”

“So, the warlocks in general.”

“You are the largest power in the tri-state area.” Meliorn paused. “Now that the Nephilim have been…so recently reduced, of course.”

“Of course.”

Magnus looked down and brushed a hand down his ultra-fine wool shirt. He pulled the thin fabric straight as he thought.

Meliorn was the Seelie Queen’s right hand in the world outside of Faerie Land. Where he went, so too went the Queen’s eye. To have her attention on his territory made Magnus slightly uncomfortable.

Meliorn continued. “Nasty business, what happened with the Whitelaws. Rumor has it you were involved.”

The Whitelaws had been the shadowhunter family in charge of the New York Institute for decades. They had all been violently murdered by Valentine and the Circle barely two years before. Magnus had fought Valentine in the battle and taken his sword through the chest for his trouble. It had been that experience that had made Magnus decide to become High Warlock of the area and take up the mantle left empty for over sixty years after Aldous Nix had…died.

The fact that Meliorn brought it up at all meant the Seelie Queen was interested in either the Whitelaws, the Circle, or Magnus. Perhaps all three.

“I wasn’t so much ‘involved’ as I was an unfortunate victim. I was investigating for a client and somehow it all ended with me nearly dying.”

Meliorn nodded. “Times are changing. There have been whispers of darker things moving in the shadows.”

Well, Valentine and the Circle were her focus then.

“The Queen has heard of your encounter and your installment as High Warlock. She sends words of congratulations for your unexpected elevation.”

Magnus snorted. He just bet she did.

Many faerie, especially old and traditional ones who were part of the Courts, thought selling magical services was beneath “higher beings” like the fae and warlocks. They looked down on the practice like some mundanes looked down on prostitution. That warlocks did so anyway made many a faerie curl their lip. The Queen had ever been scornful of Magnus because of this. He was the epitome of a warlock, who reveled in his work selling spells.

The hypocrisy of the Queen had always made Magnus quietly angry. Even as she scorned him for his work, she would also just as quickly hire him for a job.

Despite his close relationship to the Queen, Meliorn had never displayed a similar disdain for warlocks. That did not mean much, of course, as he could simply be hiding his true feelings. Either way, the lack of outright prejudice meant Magnus’ ire with the Queen did not extend to her Knight.

“It is her hope to strengthen the ties that bind all shadow races together to face what may come.”

With that sentence, several things aligned for Magnus. He had realized the purpose of Meliorn’s pageantry.

The signing of the Ninth Accords were fast approaching; only a few months out. With the Circle gaining prominence in their world and the shadowhunters still reeling after the Whitelaw Massacre, the Seelie Queen must want Magnus’ backing in some way.

Magnus had been intricately involved in the development and establishment of the Accords since the First Accords were created. He had also been a representative for the warlocks for every single renewal since its inception. This year would be the same though it would be his first time signing as a High Warlock, which gave him far more power during voting.

Clearly, the Queen had realized this as well.

“So…does the Seelie Queen have interest in something to do with the Accords and wishes the backing of the warlocks?”

Magnus decided to ask a more direct question, hoping for the straight truth.

Meliorn clenched his jaw at being forced to answer such a specific question. Magnus held back a smirk.

“Yes,” Meliorn bit out.

Magnus crossed his legs and relaxed back into his chair. Outside he heard the call of nightingales again, their song interspersed with crickets.

“And what _favor_ does the Fairest of the Hill seek from the warlocks?”

And favor it would be. Magnus would not let the Queen forget exactly who he was and what his help entailed. Payment. Either with monetary items or a return favor in the future. Meliorn could couch this conversation in some idea of solidarity all he wanted but, for Magnus, this was a transaction.

Meliorn tried not to show his increasing annoyance but Magnus saw his fingers tighten slightly around his glass. He was trapped. He either had to agree that it was a favor, and thus Magnus was owed payment, or drop the attempt to curry Magnus’ help altogether.

Meliorn threw back the last of the wine in his glass and set it down with a clink.

“The Seelie Court seeks the warlock vote on two revisions to the Accords at the upcoming signing,” Meliorn finally said.

“And the revisions?”

“The first is further changing the circumstances during which Iron Torture is allowed for interrogation by the Clave.”

Magnus nodded. That made sense. Over the long centuries, the Clave had developed dozens of ways to hurt downworlders, specific to each group. The most common methods were sun and holy item torture for vampires, silver torture for werewolves, magical binding torture for warlocks, and iron torture for faeries. While the downworlders had been able to slowly chip away at how these tortures were deployed and the severity of their use, there were still some loopholes that often ended with downworlders dead or crippled. It was an ongoing battle for all of them to get these archaic practices completely eradicated.

“And the second revision?” Magnus asked.

Meliorn shifted. “As you know, faerie changelings and half-faerie were made legal some time ago.” He paused. “However, the Queen seeks to make adjustments to the ruling about their citizenship. She wishes that half-faerie be legally considered both fae and whatever their other parent.”

“Not just socially, but politically,” Magnus said softly.

“Yes.”

Magnus was floored. He almost wished he had had that drink after all.

Half-faerie children were a bit rare and they typically lived among their non-faerie communities. They usually cleaved to that side of their genetic heritage unless they decided to petition to move to the Courts and give up their other lives.

What Meliorn was proposing was a type of dual citizenship. It would cause a shift in the balance of political power of the Shadow World. Mostly because of what it would mean for those half-faerie people who were also half-shadowhunter. Magnus was astute enough to see that that was the Queen’s true goal.

To be able to represent both faerie and shadowhunter interests simultaneously would be massive for those shadowhunter-faerie children. They would alter the very tapestry of the Clave.

Magnus rubbed at his mouth. “And what do you need from me specifically? Why come to me at all? There is no love lost between the Fair One and I.”

“You are very influential among the warlocks, Magnus. One of the most powerful of our age. Despite your only recent confirmation, you have been a High Warlock in all but name for nearly a century. The Queen bids you take our suit to the Spiral Labyrinth and be our advocate among your peers.”

Magnus clenched a fist. Rich for the Queen to look to him to be her emissary among his people. The last time he saw her, she had essentially called him a traitor to magic. It had been wrapped in pretty words, of course, but the sentiment had certainly not been lost.

Still, there was something he could possibly milk from this opportunity.

Magnus unclenched his hand. “I will take your words to the others and present it to them, however, we will likely desire reciprocity for this. If this vote goes through, the faerie will have significantly more power than the warlocks. The others will not like the imbalance.”

“What do you suggest?”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed shrewdly. “I will suggest that the warlocks ask that the newly minted faerie-shadowhunter representatives vote with the warlocks once for every three petitions we present, both during Accords renewals and before Clave Council meetings.”

“Every six.”

“Four.”

Meliorn was silent. He stared thoughtfully at his Ring canopy and his fingers rubbed at each other.

He nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

Magnus held back a smirk. He had thought the man would insist on five.

“This is not definite, of course,” Magnus continued. “However, I am prepared to make a vow on at least being your emissary among my people and casting my vote in favor. The rest is up to the other warlocks, I’m afraid.”

Meliorn nodded once more and stood.

“Excellent,” he said. He held out a hand to Magnus. “I’ll write up a writ. Shall we seal the vow and confirm it?”

Magnus hesitated, staring at the hand. Meliorn preferred to seal deals with intimate magic, if agreeable to the other party or parties. Faeries were very sensual people and they excelled at sex magic. Magnus had had no intention while coming there to dally with Meliorn but the offer was clearly on the table.

Magnus flashed back to Meliorn rising from the river pool dripping wet and lit by fireflies. He closed his eyes and gave a rueful grin. Even though Magnus was completely aware of Meliorn priming him with that display, he could already tell it had worked. Magnus had been feeling a persistent, low grade arousal since he had tracked the man from his portal site to the waterfall.

 _Why not?_ he thought. He wasn’t seeing anyone permanently or exclusively at the moment and he had not been with a faerie in several years.

Magnus opened his eyes and let his grin widen. Meliorn met him with an equal smile. Magnus placed his hand in Meliorn’s and let him pull Magnus to his feet.

The hand clasp was adjusted and became a way for the smaller man to lead Magnus to the back of his receiving area and deeper into the man’s Lebanese anchored, fae home.

***

Sex with a faerie was always a singular experience for Magnus. Each faerie was different, had different magical hegemonies, and thus the sex was always unique to them. Meliorn always reminded Magnus of the sweetest syrup, pulled straight from an ancient sugar maple. It was an almost paradoxical description for the cynical faerie warrior with a tongue as sharp as it was cold.

Yet, as that same tongue worked over Magnus’ length and his warm, faerie magic crawled beneath Magnus’ own cold fire, Magnus could not help but be taken with the saccharine description all over again.

Magnus was stretched back over Meliorn’s down mattress and soft, linen sheets in his private rooms. He was completely naked, as was Meliorn. They had been working on each other for nearly half an hour already.

Magnus shuddered at the skilled swipe of a tongue across his erection’s crown. Meliorn’s hands massaged over Magnus’ rapidly twitching abdomen, elbows holding Magnus’ legs spread wide. Magnus grabbed at the sheets by his hips and concentrated hard on not getting lost in sensation.

They still had to seal the vow. The spell would need his attention before he could succumb to wild abandon with Meliorn.

Meliorn lifted his mouth from Magnus then and looked up to meet Magnus’ eyes. He gave a cheeky smile and crawled up to lay across Magnus’ chest, slotting his hips between Magnus’ legs.

Magnus ran his hands through Meliorn’s freshly washed hair, still a little damp at the roots from the river or perhaps his own sweat. He used his hold to pull Meliorn’s face up to his and kiss him, opened mouthed and passionate.

Meliorn’s arms wrapped around his neck and he undulated over top of Magnus, rubbing their arousals together in long slow drags.

Magnus groaned and tightened his hands in long hair. He let one hand wander down to grabbed at the other man’s ass and encouraged the hip movements.

After a minute, Magnus pulled back and Meliorn started to kiss across his neck and shoulders.

“We should confirm the spell,” Magnus whispered huskily. Meliorn hummed in agreement as he worried a hickey beneath Magnus’ ear.

Meliorn’s magic rolled over Magnus’ skin again and Magnus’ eyes flared with power as his own magic rose in challenge.

Suddenly, Meliorn was pushing against Magnus’ shoulders. He sat up and swung his legs over Magnus’ hips, changing their position so that he was straddling Magnus instead of between his thighs. He obligingly slotted their lengths together again and kept his hips moving over Magnus’ own center. Meliorn reached over and pulled a long parchment closer. It was the writ detailing their agreement in precise words that would serve to bind the spell.

Magnus sat up to meet Meliorn in a kiss and wrapped one hand around both of their hard penises, pressing the lengths together in a firm grasp. Meliorn wrapped his hand around Magnus’ on their cocks and the two men finally released their growing magic.

They stopped kissing and pressed their foreheads together, eyes locked onto each other. Meliorn began the spell:

> _“Let all bear witness on this day,_
> 
> _A promise given is a promise kept.”_

Magnus spoke his lines next:

> _“Let not I hold a wily tongue,_
> 
> _Nor lie on mouth be swept.”_

Meliorn’s brown, sepia skin glowed vibrantly from within and his voice echoed as he intoned.

“Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, do you so swear to present the suit detailed in this writ proposing an alliance between our realms before your peers?”

“I do.”

“And do you so swear that you shall side with the Seelie Court upon occasion that this suit becomes a vote in exchange for the terms detailed in this writ?”

“I do,” Magnus said, voice echoing just as loudly as Meliorn’s. He continued with his return questions.

“Meliorn, Knight of Faerie, on behalf of the Seelie Court as its proxy and the promise of the Seelie Queen, do you so swear to uphold the terms of payment as detailed in this writ should the vote also detailed therein prove successful?”

“I do,” said Meliorn and their magic pulsed, heavily focused near their hips.

The last couplet they said together:

> _“A hand in mine and magic twined_
> 
> _Be proof of honor dealt.”_

Their mingled magic exploded in colors around them. Their bodies practically swam with energy and the intimacy of the moment was heightened by their magical connection. The trees groaned and the leaves shook, and Magnus heard some small animal scrabble away in fear.

The parchment next to them glowed a luminescent green and blue, the writing so bright it looked like it was burning. Then the magic fell and the wildlife outside of Meliorn’s haven began their cacophonous song again.

Magnus practically tossed the sealed vow from the bed. Then he slid one bulky arm around Meliorn’s waist and nearly lifted both of their bodies clear off of the bed as he flipped them over to push Meliorn back into the pillows.

Meliorn let out a whoop of laughter and Magnus reciprocated his merriment. Magnus dove down to take the other man’s lips as surely as he was planning on taking everything else.

From the smile Magnus felt against his mouth, he knew Meliorn was eager for much the same.

***

Magnus and Meliorn lied quiet in the night, covered in sweat and completely relaxed after a rigorous session of magic and sex.

Meliorn was propped up on pillows against his headboard with Magnus stretched perpendicular from him with his head resting on firm abs. Meliorn was stroking a hand through Magnus’ slightly longish hair absently as he stared up through the crisscrossing branches of the tree branches above them.

His other hand was resting on Magnus’ pectoral. Magnus reached up to play with Meliorn’s fingers.

“Is there something wrong, my friend?” he asked Meliorn.

Meliorn sighed and shook his head. “Not wrong, no.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes and adjusted his question. “Something troubling you then?”

Meliorn rubbed his fingers across Magnus’ chest. “Have you always been so persistent, Magnus?”

Magnus feinted with a cheeky joke. “Only when my well-cultivated reputation is at stake.”

Meliorn chuckled and raised his head to meet Magnus’ gaze. He raised Magnus’ hand to press a short kiss to his palm.

“Fear not, my friend, your reputation remains unparalleled.”

“And yet you frown.” Magnus shifted his body to lie lengthwise next to Meliorn.

Meliorn groaned and flopped his head back.

“It is a matter of worry. With my reassignment from Los Angeles, I will be away from an…acquaintance for a very long time. She has recently gone through a difficult pregnancy and was separated from her lover.” Meliorn shook his head in sadness. “I fear that without me there to help her, she will fade.”

Magnus was silent for a moment. He rubbed a soothing hand along Meliorn’s arm. He did not inquire further about the nature of the relationship Meliorn had with this faerie woman, but his instincts told him they were more than just acquaintances. It was not his place to wonder about that.

Instead, Magnus asked, “Is there no other she can rely on?”

“The Seelie Court is not so kind a place as that for some. You know this, Magnus.”

He did know. He had romanced many faerie lovers over the centuries and every time he had occasion to visit the Bright Court, it had felt less like a paradise and more like a viper’s pit.

“My sympathies for your sadness, Meliorn,” he said as a paltry platitude.

Meliorn waved a hand. “It is the way of these things. Faerie pregnancies are rare things, and she has had two in close proximity. It is expected that she falter under such pressure.”

“I shall hope for your Lady’s recovery, all the same.”

“Thank you,” Meliorn said with a soft smile.

They lay quiet for a moment and a thought passed through Magnus’ mind. He wondered if the children might have been Meliorn’s, though he does not say anything to avoid prying.

Meliorn sighed and patted Magnus’ arm. “Come, Magnus. Let’s check on your order.”

Meliorn lifted up from his reclined position, pulling Magnus with him. He handed Magnus a silk robe and pants, and pulled another for his own body. He also set out rubber-soled slippers for them both.

The two followed Meliorn’s curtained pathways deeper into his estate. Magnus could feel himself just on the edge of confusion with the amount of turns they took.

They eventually emerged from the curtained halls into a large work room that smelled of fresh cut wood and tree sap. Long tables stretched that were covered in baskets and other gardening equipment.

At the far end of the room, Magnus could see a young faerie woman bent over a basket. Her magic was working over a tree branch, stripping it and turning its bark into mulch.

“Dorani,” Meliorn called out. “Have you finished with Magnus’ order?”

The woman straightened from her work and turned. She wore fitted pants and a short sleeved shirt. Her hair was covered with a dark blue hijab.

Her face brightened at their approach. She look a touch sweaty, likely from her magical labor, and a red blush suffused her cheeks. Her glamour was down and her eyes glowed lilac while her skin was patterned with the lines of some kind of vine. She was quite lovely.

“Of course, Meliorn, it’s there on the third table, wrapped and ready to go.” She gestured to a table closer to where Meliorn and Magnus stood.

Neither Meliorn nor Magnus inspected the large burlap sack. Dorani was an exceptional and efficient worker. Magnus was certain everything was in order.

“Thank you, Dorani,” Magnus said with a nod. Meliorn waved a hand at the package of cedar cones and Magnus stepped forward to banish the whole thing to his work room in New York.

It was a bit much, considering the distance from Lebanon to the States, and the fact that he had just done major ritual magic. Still, he managed with only a little trouble.

“Would you like anything else, Magnus?” Meliorn asked.

Magnus remembered to ask about the white champion. “I know you have a limited amount of flowers but do you happen to cultivate white champion at all?”

Meliorn narrowed his eyes as he thought, then he nodded. “Yes, I believe so. We just added them last year, right, Dorani?”

Dorani nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, cousin. I can go get some clippings now.”

Meliorn waved a hand. “No, finish your work here and then go home. I can take him.”

Meliorn kissed the woman on the head, picked up some pruning tools from a table, and moved past to the shimmering curtains behind her.

Magnus gave a polite bow to the woman and she returned to her work over her basket, her magic swirling in front of her.

Magnus followed Meliorn through another series of breezy tunnels and the two came out in another room. “Room” was a bit of a misnomer, however, since it was basically just open nature. This area was massive and bursting with colors. Around them were flowers and plants at various stages of bloom.

Meliorn and Magnus eventually came to a large sized patch of the white champion. It was situated in an open area directly beneath a gap on the canopy to get the maximum sun.

Meliorn bent to his task and asked, “How much do you need?”

“10oz., please. From male only plants, if you can.”

Meliorn nodded and began to work.

As he did Magnus wandered nearby, looking at all of the flowers on display. To an untrained eye the place looked chaotic and wild, but Magnus could just manage to make out the hint of a system in the chaos.

The garden looked like a natural outcropping of plants but Magnus could feel the natural magic covering everything, suspending the plants in their own environments. Each were suited to the flower beds and small tree saplings they nurtured.

Magnus stopped in front of a patch of red anemone. The patch glowed yellow with magic and the lovely blooms swayed in a light breeze.

“Done,” Meliorn said behind him.

He came up beside Magnus with a small basket of cuttings covered with a soft cloth. He handed the basket to Magnus and Magnus banished it as well.

“What do I owe you with the additional order?” Magnus asked.

Meliorn waved a hand. “Nothing more than what you already exchanged for the cedar cones. Consider it an extra.”

Magnus went to protest but Meliorn smacked a hand onto his shoulder and Magnus fell quiet.

They both went back to looking at the red anemone sprouting from a thick patch of grass. It was a beautiful thing. A flower of brilliant crimson, petals blooming from an inky black center. The flower caps swayed on delicate stems and looked fragile to touch.

Meliorn spoke into the silence. “Have you heard of the story of Myrrha?”

“Yes, many times.”

There were many versions but they all generally boiled down to a beleaguered woman cursed by the gods, who had incestuous relations with her father, and had a disastrous pregnancy before she was turned into a myrrh tree; her bitter tears the tree’s sap.

From the tree was cut the babe, Adonis, a man so beautiful two goddesses fell in love, and other gods raged in jealousy and killed him. It was said Aphrodite wept bitterly over his fallen form and her tears turned into anemones. When Adonis’ blood fell too, the drops stained the flowers red.

It had all taken place there in Lebanon, in Byblos. According to some myths, at least.

“There are those who believe Myrrha to have been the first dryad. There is no one alive to know the truth, of course, but it is a theory.”

Magnus stayed silent.

“Imagine a line of people descended from such tragedy and pain: a woman who loved wrongly, a man murdered by jealousy, and the bitter tears of women who loved him and suffered. What is the point of it all?”

“I do not know, my friend,” Magnus returned. “I do not know.”

He laid his chin on Meliorn’s shoulder and stretched his arm over his narrow chest. The short hairs on Meliorn’s chest, peaking from his loose robe, dragged beneath Magnus’ palm.  

Magnus hoped it was a comfort.


End file.
